


bird in the hand

by elodim



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Broke millennials unite, Drabble Sequence, Everyone lives in the city, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gossip, Humor, M/M, Office Humor, Possible Slow burn, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Slow Build, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9443153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elodim/pseuds/elodim
Summary: “Hi Yuuri, this is Sara Crispino calling from Feltsman, Lambiel & Nikiforov LLP. I’m calling because we would like to offer you a position as a Paralegal in our Corporate Transactions department – we were all very impressed with your credentials and think you would be a great fit here. Please give me a call back once you have a chance. Thank you!”Yuuri waited three hours before calling Sara back, who answered immediately. He stammered an acceptance, not even bothering to negotiate salary because he still was not entirely convinced that they hadn't called him on accident. Then booked a flight back to the city.He wasn’t excited, per se, but he was surprised, and a little relieved, and, well... He would be living in a city, in an apartment that would be too small, with a roommate that would probably be too loud, and working in an office. Maybe that was okay for now.And maybe he would have a chance to thank that Victor guy. That would be okay, too.---Or: the AU in which everyone works in an office and they all collectively hate their jobs together and get nothing done.****ON HIATUS****





	1. The One with the Job Interview

Yuuri was sweating a lot more than he would have liked to admit. There were a number of possible causes: the June sun beating down on his stuffy grey suit; the panic of a delayed flight; his struggle to hail a taxi outside of the busy airport; the fresh coffee stain dotting his white dress shirt that he was just barely able to cover with his buttoned-up suit jacket; and, of course, the expected pre-interview jitters wracking throughout his body. Probably a combination of all of the above, he decided.

The beat-up old taxi Yuuri finally managed to get into was driven by a very angry, jaded old man who yelled at cars even though his windows were closed and who leaned on the car horn as often as he took a breath. The traffic was dense and every driver seemed intent to ignore all road laws. The taxi had lurched to a sudden stop five times already from cutting off another car, had driven over a sidewalk turning a corner twice, and the cabby had actually rolled down his window _once_ to scream at another driver in a language Yuuri was unfamiliar with. Yuuri had never been more terrified in his life – not even that time in college when he and his roommate Phichit were stuck for forty minutes on the top of a rusty old rollercoaster at the shitty carnival Phichit dragged him to. The cabby was scarier, the taxi rustier, and the threat of death was somehow much more apparent today than it was then. Assuming he lived, Yuuri had some very new and very potent nightmare material to work with.

Somehow, miraculously, the taxi (and, by extension, Yuuri) arrived at the destination in one piece. Yuuri clambered out of the cab as quickly as he could, tossing a few bills to the grumbling driver and scurrying away toward the concrete plaza outside of his destined building.

He glanced at his watch: _9:13 AM._ A little over fifteen minutes early – perfect.

He allowed himself a moment to pause – _breathe in, breathe out, once you walk in, it’s time._ He looked around, surrounded on all sides by buildings so tall you couldn’t see the top. He looked up at the concrete monstrosity that he was about to enter, eyeing the large, silver-plaqued letters displayed on the side of the building.

 

FELTSMAN, LAMBIEL & NIKIFOROV LLP

 

He opened his portfolio packed with resumes and transcripts and letters of recommendation, and pulled out a sheet of paper with the first two paragraphs of the company’s Wikipedia page printed on it and scanned it for review:

_“Feltsman, Lambiel & Nikiforov LLP and (often shortened to Feltsman Lambiel; Feltsman; or FL&N), founded in 1948, is an international law firm based in New York City. With approximately 1,700 attorneys, it is one of the highest-grossing law firms in the world. Forbes magazine has called Feltsman 'Wall Street's most powerful law firm.' The firm has been ranked 'America's Best Corporate Law Firm' in Corporate Board Member's survey of public company directors every year since 2001._

_Feltsman was responsible for creating hedge funds and other investment vehicles for financial clients in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s, and capitalized on the growth of international business, finance, and technology transactions in the 1990s. Today, Feltsman has offices in financial centers including London, Frankfurt, Munich,_ _São Paulo, Seoul, Tokyo, Singapore, Hong Kong and Beijing, in addition to domestic offices in Los Angeles and Washington, D.C.”_

God, Yuuri felt like he was going to throw up – not just because of the job interview anymore, but because of the _job._ Just two years ago he had found himself swearing to his parents and everyone who would listen that he would _never_ sell out to corporate America. He'd majored in Comparative Literature (because he was passionate about it) and wracked up copious amounts of student debt (he didn't know any better), even going so far as to extend his program (and his loans; did he mention that he didn't know any better?) an additional year to receive a Master's degree in English & American Literature. He hadn't really registered the cost at the time; after all, he was going to write the "Next Great American Novel™" and _surely_ that would pay off any bills – and yet, there he was, lined up for an interview at one of the largest corporate law firms in the world for the lowest ranked job in the corporate ladder, and actually hoping to get it because _goddamn_ did he need the money. College Yuuri would have laughed if you'd told him he would end up here but, well, College Yuuri also racked up a pile of student loans so high it rivaled Mount Everest so clearly he lacked good judgement.

Yuuri walked into the lobby and approached the reception desk with a large, red plaque that read FELTSMAN displayed on the front and addressed the cheery woman behind the desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here to see Sara Crispino?” _Ugh, god, why did I phrase that like a question_ , he thought _. I already look so dumb, like I‘m not even sure who I’m_ meeting _with, and –_

“Go to the C bank elevator to your right, 53rd floor,” the receptionist smiled as she handed him his guest pass.

Blushing, he muttered a quick thank you as he grabbed the pass, walking toward the elevator bank labeled “C – 47-60 floors”.

 Yuuri couldn’t help but marvel at how he was in a building that required _four_ elevator banks, A – D, with eight elevator shafts per bank _._ He knew this company was huge, but _damn._ He’d grown up in a small town where there was maybe one elevator in a building, period. Even when he was in college, the larger buildings had maybe two elevators in a maximum six floor building. But then he remembered the _sixty_ floors of concrete that had imposed on him outside and, yeah, maybe an elevator bank or four made sense for here, and _oh god now I’m getting intimidated by architecture –_

“What floor?”

The man waiting for him in the elevator had short silver hair sweeping in front of his green-blue eyes, an elegantly tailored black suit adorning him like a second skin, an easy smile affixed to his face as he held his arm in front of the elevator door to keep it open. Ignoring the fact that this was possibly the most handsome man he has ever seen, Yuuri felt instantly underdressed as he settled himself beside him, his too-large suit suddenly _far_ too frumpy, his ages-old tie _way_ too blue, and his previously slicked back hair now standing at odd ends due to his earlier battle with body temperature. This was the kind of man who made everyone in the room look drabby by comparison. Of course this would be the man Yuuri had to share an elevator with - god forbid the universe allow him to feel confident for even one second of his life.

“Um, your floor?” The man repeated. Yuuri flushed, realizing he hadn't answered the man, then flushed even more when he realized he’d forgotten the floor, and finally just shoved the guest pass toward the man who chuckled as he pressed the button for the 53rd floor.

“Same floor as me,” the man smiled. “Are you here for a job interview?”

“Um, yeah. How did you know?”

“Well, you look really nervous.” Damn. “Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“Ah, I hope so.” Yuuri could feel how red his face was and he _really_ wanted to get out of this elevator with this stranger who was studying him like he was the goddamn Mona Lisa.

“What’s your name?” Yuuri glanced up at the man, the smile still plastered onto his face as though it was painted there and Yuuri was fairly certain his own face looked like he'd sucked on a sour lemon. The man held his hand out expectantly; Yuuri wiped his own sweaty palm on his pants before taking it.

“Yuuri.”

“I’m Victor; it’s very nice to meet you, _Yuuri_.” The man – Victor –  didn’t _say_ so much as _purr_ Yuuri’s name _._ Yuuri delicately removed his hand from the other's grasp when he made no move to release it and shuffled off to the furthest corner of the elevator. Victor did not seem perturbed, merely eyeing him as the elevator sped its way up.

_DING._

Victor followed Yuuri out to the 53rd floor, trailing behind him as he approached the reception desk – “I’m here to see Sara Crispino,” – and the receptionist – blond with a red tuft of hair falling over his forehead at the top of his window’s peak – looked from Yuuri to Victor with something like panicked awe before he flushed and dialed the extension for Sara Crispino’s office, gesturing for Yuuri to have a seat and “Ms. Crispino will be with you shortly” and “can I get you a glass of water while you wait” _._

Yuuri took the seat, declined the water, and prepared himself to wave goodbye to Victor only to find that Victor apparently wasn’t leaving at all. Yuuri seated himself in the sunken-in fabric armchair, trying his best to keep his posture straight even as the chair seemed intent on encouraging a healthy slouch, and Victor sat in the armchair next to him, perfectly poised and smiling serenely at Yuuri. Yuuri did his best to ignore the receptionist who kept throwing nervous glances toward them as he mentally recited his work history.

“Do you know what your weaknesses are?” Victor whispered conspiratorially.

“Uh – um, I don't –”

“They _always_ ask you what your weaknesses are,” Victor explained, leaning over the arm of his chair and gazing at Yuuri’s resume. Yuuri slammed his portfolio shut quickly, and Victor leaned back with a chuckle. “Wow, so secretive! It’s not like I’m trying to steal your job, you know.”

Yuuri didn’t answer, his knee bouncing nervously as he waited. He assumed that Victor worked at Feltsman already, but that still didn't explain why he had decided to glue himself to Yuuri's side. Did he work in Human Resources, too? Yuuri dismissed that idea quickly: he just didn't seem the type.

If it were any other time, Yuuri might have been happy to talk to the man - he was handsome, sure, definitely a little eccentric, but overall harmless. But, it was five minutes before an important job interview, he was nervous, and he did not have the energy to waste a conversation on someone who couldn't help him get hired here.  He decided that maybe he should ask Victor what he did at the company; at the very least, it would mean the man could stop silently staring at him for however long it took to answer.

Before he could pose a question, however, Victor launched into an emphatic explanation on “job interview weaknesses” – shortcomings that you can spin around to turn into positives, and Yuuri was surprised to find that a lot of what Victor said made sense. Yuuri nodded along as he talked, committing some of the points to memory and thinking about how they could apply to his resume. He was still a little too nervous to converse, but he settled for offering Victor a small smile as thanks once Victor's words died down. This seemed the please Victor well enough, as Victor offered him a gentle smile of his own before leaning back with a hum, his index finger perched on his lips in contemplation, eyes squinted slightly as he studied Yuuri again.

A door opened at the end of the hallway behind the reception desk and a beaming woman marched toward them, long, dark hair plaited in a neat braid down her back, arm outstretched in preparation for a handshake. “Yuuri Katsuki, very nice to meet you, I’m Sara with Human Resources and I will be –“

Sara cut herself off suddenly as she noticed Victor. She glanced at the receptionist, who shrugged, then at Yuuri, who gave no reaction beside a tense smile, then finally fixed a bemused smile to to her face as she turned to Victor with a quirked eyebrow. "Victor! To what do we owe the pleasure?"

“Hi, Sara~” Victor chirped, apparently unaware of the confused awkwardness in the air. Yuuri briefly wondered if Victor was planning on joining him in the interview, too. He wasn't sure if he'd prefer it or not. “I was just keeping my friend Yuuri here company until his interview.”

“Ah, your friend!” Sara exclaimed, eyes suddenly alight and her voice understanding. “I see, very good, I hadn’t known. Not to worry, we’ll take great care of him, Victor.”

“I’m sure you will,” Victor beamed. “Good luck, Yuuri!” Victor called as he walked away, winking at Yuuri as he passed. He walked back out to the C bank elevators and pressed the UP arrow, apparently settling whatever business he had on the 53rd floor already.

Yuuri didn’t really know what had just happened, but, for a moment, he had been so confused that he’d forgotten to be nervous. He wished he had the chance to thank Victor for that, at least.

______________________________

The interview did no go particularly well. He had met with three people that day: Sara Crispino, the human resources representative; Celestino Cialini, the legal support staff supervisor; and Lilia Baranovskaya, the Global Director of legal support staff. He’d gotten along well enough with Sara, who was not much older than him and very friendly despite his stuttered and nonsensical answers to her behavioral analysis questions. Celestino was a bit odd but he was nice enough, explaining the details of the job at length and answering Yuuri’s questions as much with animated hand gestures as he did with his words. He was quite sure that Lilia did _not_ like him, looking over his resume with a practiced sneer as she picked apart every skill and explained why it would not be applicable to the job – but, then again, he also thought she was probably the type of person who did not like anyone. He suspected that his butchered pronunciation of her name probably did not help his chances.

He _definitely_ nailed the weaknesses question, though, which was his one small point of pride.

Overall, it was a mediocre interview. An extra-ordinary interview at an _extraordinary_ law firm; Yuuri didn’t have a chance. He hadn’t even bothered to send them thank-you letters since it would just be a waste of everyone’s time. He made a mental note to apologize to Mari for screwing up the interview once his flight back home landed – if she hadn't called in a favor with one of her law school buddies who worked at the firm he would never have been called in. He hoped she wouldn't be too embarrassed.

Exactly one week after his interview, he received a call from an unfamiliar number. He let it go to voicemail.

“ _Hi Yuuri, this is Sara Crispino calling from Feltsman, Lambiel & Nikiforov LLP. I’m calling because we would like to offer you a position as a Paralegal in our Corporate Transactions department – we were all very impressed with your credentials and think you would be a great fit here. Please give me a call back once you have a chance. Thank you!”_

Yuuri waited three hours before calling Sara back, who answered immediately. He stammered an acceptance, not even bothering to negotiate salary because he still was not entirely convinced that they hadn't called him on accident. Then he booked a flight back to the city and set about packing up his life.

He wasn’t _excited_ , per se, but he was surprised, and a little relieved, and, well... He would be living in a city, in an apartment that would be too small, with a roommate that would probably be too loud, and working in an office. Maybe that was okay for now.

And maybe he would have a chance to thank that Victor guy. That would be okay, too.


	2. The One with All the Facts

Fact: sometimes, miracles can happen.

Yuuri recognized that there was some truth to what Lilia had said in their interview; he really _wasn't_ qualified for this job. He had spent the last five years reading and analyzing fiction. He’d written his master’s thesis on dystopian novels and, while his current circumstances were moderately dystopic for him in theory, in practice approximately none of this would be of any use to him in his new role. He knew next to nothing about legal documents and, despite his love of reading, who actually _wants_ to read contracts? All he needed was for an attorney to find him passed out from the boredom of the verbose “legalese” contract language. Even disregarding his inexperience, Yuuri knew he would have next to nothing in common with the rest of the legal personnel who surely possessed a passion for law. Yuuri was awkward enough even when he was surrounded by like-minded peers in his own element. In this world where he was definitively An Outsider, the prospect of a social circle was growing bleaker by the day.

However, before Yuuri could resign himself to two years of eating in his cubicle sad and alone, there came a sudden and miraculous intervention from whatever divine force that controlled his life. Yuuri’s best friend and old college roommate had, sadly and wondrously,  _also_ decided to put his dreams on hold due to crippling student loans.

“My dreams aren't on hold, it’s just so I can pay off debt,” Phichit explained over the phone after giving a squealing Yuuri the news. “This is part of the pursuit! Put in two years of time, and then I can focus on what I love. I’ll already be in the right place to do it anyway so it's perfect!”

Once Yuuri's joy abetted slightly, he found he was a little disappointed that Phichit wasn't in Corporate. His friend would be working in Litigation department, which Yuuri remembered was housed thirteen floors and one whole elevator bank away from Yuuri in Corporate. But, Yuuri knew better than to count his blessings. He wouldn’t be facing this trial alone, and that in itself was a miracle of the highest order.

Of course, there was never  _really_ a question of Phichit being hired. Once he found out Phichit was called in for an interview, he had no doubt Phichit would get the job – if they had somehow deigned to hire Yuuri, awkward bundle of nerves that he was, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell that they would reject Phichit.

There was no real discussion needed for them to decide that  _of course_ they would be living together. “Honestly, Yuuri, I put up with you in college for too damn long to even _think_ about subjecting myself to living with a stranger again,” Phichit explained when Yuuri timidly mentioned that he would have to start looking for an apartment soon.

One week before their first day, they had finished unpacking moving boxes into a very small two-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor of a crappy, pre-war walk-up in the outer borough of the city. The kitchen was abhorrent, the bathroom hardly big enough to fit a grown man, it was hot and humid and they were too broke for an air conditioner, at night the pipes screamed the songs of the damned, and it would be a ten minute walk to the nearest subway each morning to get to work.

Sure, Yuuri was living in a shithole apartment apartment working a soul-crushing job for meager pay, but there was a certain charm to the banality of it all. Besides, dreams be damned, nothing can be  _that_ bad when Phichit Chulanont was by your side.

 

___________________

 

Fact: the first day of work as an entry-level paralegal at this particular law firm is eerily similar to the first day of orientation in college. 

After a harrowing ride on a subway car that was reminiscent of a sardine can in both density and stench, Phichit and Yuuri arrived at the Feltsman building at 9:00AM sharp and were swiftly ushered into a large conference room on the 54th floor. There was a long, glossy wooden conference table in the center of the room with standard office chairs circled around it. On all sides, the room was walled with glass; Yuuri could see into the hallway outside if he sat facing the door. On the opposite side was a floor-to-ceiling window revealing a frankly breathtaking view of the city skyline that stretched far enough that the buildings began to fade away with distance, the morning sun gleaming off of the window glass.

“Woah! Scale of one to ten, how awkward is it if I take a selfie right now?” Phichit asked him, eyes sparkling.

“Solid eight.” Yuuri said. He patted his friend's arm with mock sympathy as Phichit returned a resigned pout. Even Yuuri could admit it was indeed quite the photo-op, but he also knew that this was probably not the opportune moment to out oneself as a social media fanatic. “We’re going to be here for  _two years_ , Phichit. I promise, you’ve got plenty of time.”

With an indignant sigh, Phichit followed Yuuri back to the glossy table, settling themselves next to one another into one of the seats that would be facing the skyline. As the other newly-hired paralegals trickled in, Phichit made light conversation with each of them as Yuuri worried his bottom lip. He had no idea what to expect from his first day. Would they expect him to do actual work? He had no real experience…what if they realized he was a useless paralegal and they fired him after the first day? Could he still put the company on his resume or would that be too much?

Half-listening to the murmured conversations in the room, Yuuri learned that the other workers came from schools all over the country with majors ranging from Film to Business to Communications to Linguistics and everything in between. Some of them had work experience, some of them didn’t; some came from prestigious universities, some came from schools Yuuri had never even heard of before. Of one thing he was certain: this company clearly did not have a type.

As the last of the paralegals settled in,Yuuri looked around and quickly counted  _two, four, six, eight, nine_  new hires total. He wondered how many of them would be working in Corporate with him; he might never see any of the other legal assistants again depending on where they were assigned.

Celestino entered the room after a few minutes and settled himself at the head of the table. Visually, he looked very out of place. While everyone else in the room sported ill-fitted suits, perfectly groomed hair and a nervously expectant smile, Celestino looked utterly at ease as he looked around the room with a toothy grin. His wispy brown hair was pulled back into a cowlicked pony tail and he was wearing _khakis_ , of all things, paired with a grey sport jacket. He vaguely recalled that Celestino had worked at Feltsman for over ten years; Yuuri supposed that Celestino earned the right of casual dress after so long.

“Ciao, ciao everyone,” Celestino chirped as the few whispered conversations quieted down. “I’m very happy to see that you all made it here on time and found your way here." Celestino was smiling good-naturedly at all of them, making sure to lock eyes with each person around the table. "We’re very excited to have you all join us here at Feltsman. I thought we would start out by getting to know each other a little bit.”

 

___________________

  
Fact: Yuuri has no fun facts. 

When Yuuri first started attending college, practically the entire first month of classes involved "ice breakers" of some sort - these were embarrassing attempts to force companionship between students. Yuuri freaking  _hated_ ice breakers. The introductory ones seemed to haunt him wherever he went: they wanted your name, where you came from, and a "fun fact" about yourself. Yuuri was always in awe at how interesting his classmates were: they had traveled the world, they had adventures to divulge, accomplishments to share, and their fun facts actually were  _fun._  Many a late night was spent agonizing over his embarrassing attempts at being interesting during his freshman orientation week.

 _"I'm Yuuri, I'm a freshman, I'm originally from Japan but I've lived in America for a while, and, um, my fun fact is...I had a dog growing up that I named after Queen Victoria."_  
  
_"I'm Kats - ah - Yuuri Katsuki, I'm a freshman in the the college of arts and sciences, I moved to the States when I was four, and my fun fact is...I have really bad eyesight?"_  
  
_"Yuuri. I've lived in both Japan and the U.S. I'm majoring in comp lit. My fun fact is that I am fluent in Japanese...which is, uh, I guess kind of obvious...since I am from Japan..."_

So, it was much to Yuuri's shock and chagrin to find himself in his present position:  23 years old,  Master's degree, employed at a full-time job at a top firm, a certified Grown-Ass Man™, and  _they were making him do goddamn ice breakers again._  Yuuri was barely listening as the other paralegals recited their interesting tidbits about themselves as he wracked his brain for  _something_ of interest to say.

“My name is Jean-Jacques, but everyone calls me JJ. I’m originally from Canada and my fun fact is that I’m actually the lead singer of local rock band Royal Flush – you've either heard of us already or you _will_ be hearing of us soon. Hit me up for a CD!”

Emil does extreme sports in his free time, Otabek has fiddled with DJing, Leo once auditioned for a dance reality TV talent show and was told he was awful by the judges _,_ Guang-Hong had a minor role in a soap opera when he was three years old _…_   _Why is everyone so damn interesting?_

“Hi everyone! My name is Mila and my fun fact is that I used to do competitive gymnastics!”

Yuuri stifled a groan as Mila grinned at everyone’s exclamations.  _Of course_ they had to have a human pretzel on the new-hire team – how was he supposed to compete with that?

“Seung-gil. I was born in Korea. I majored in Mathematics.” He sat down and Yuuri was immediately seething because,  _what the hell. He did_ not _have a fun fact and_ _no one called him out on it?_  Majors shouldn’t count as fun facts. Even if they could, Mathematics was certainly the least fun of all the facts ever. This wasn’t  _fair._

“Hi again guys! I’m Phichit, I actually went to school with Yuuri here,” Yuuri snapped his head up, his eyes widening as he realized that  _oh shit I'm next_. “My fun fact is that I have around nineteen thousand followers on Instagram so I am sorta insta-famous!” Everyone cooed at that, Phichit promising to tag them all in the group selfie they were sure to take later in the day. 

Finally, everyone turned to Yuuri expectantly.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit._

“Um, hi. My name is Yuuri…” Yuuri was sweating again,  _crap._ This shouldn’t be a big deal, _so why did his sweat glands think this was a big deal. “_ Um, I was born in Japan, but, uh I’ve lived here since forever. My fun fact is…”

_TAP TAP TAP._

___________________

 

Fact: it's a small world after all.

Yuuri paused in his floundering, taking in the furrowed eyebrows of everyone staring at something just behind him.

"Um...my fact is..."

_TAP TAP TAP._

Celestino excused himself apologetically as he made his way out of the room, Yuuri following him with his eyes but not turning around. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as everyone’s eyes moved away from him. He listened to the muffled chatter coming from behind him while everyone else in the room broke into murmured chats. When Extreme Sports Emil and Gymnast Mila careened around to ogle the view, Phichit practically flew out his seat to take a selfie by the window despite the “solid eight” awkwardness sentencing; evidently, Emil and Mila's interest was enough for it to be overruled.

_TAP TAP TAP._

“Uh, dude, he’s staring at you,” Leo the One-Time Reality Dance Auditioner said to Yuuri from across the conference table.

“What? Who?” Yuuri exclaimed, wide-eyed as Leo shrugged.

Yuuri whipped his head around and peered at the scene beyond the glass wall. There were at least fifteen people loitering outside, grouped up in smaller conversation circles or otherwise looking around confusedly, some clutching thick laptops, others rifling through a stack of papers perched on their knee, and still others shoving documents into accordion folders or checking the time. Celestino was engaged in an animated conversation with a small circle of sharply dressed men and women who all seemed to be laughing at something Celestino said.

Off to the side, Yuuri noticed a gruff, imposing elderly man staring angrily at a familiar silver-haired man in a navy blue suit, blue eyes alight and hand poised in preparation for yet another _TAP._

Yuuri thought he saw Victor mouth " _Yuuri!"_ before affixing a thousand-watt smile at Yuuri as they made eye contact through the windowed wall, lowering his hand before he could knock on the glass one more time. Yuuri smiled timidly in return, mouthing “ _Hello Victor”_ as he offered a gentle wave. Victor enthusiastically waved back before speaking excitedly to the elderly man, gesturing toward Yuuri emphatically. _What is he saying,_ Yuuri wondering. _And why the hell is he gesturing at me?!_

The older man answered Victor with a sardonic roll of his eyes before settling on Yuuri, who withered immediately. The man was absolutely petrifying, his scowling eyes boring into Yuuri as though every wrong he had experienced in his ancient life could be personally attributed Yuuri Katsuki. Then he grumbled something to Victor before ambling his way back toward the elevator, the army of suits following quickly in tow. Victor pouted just a moment before turning back to Yuuri with an apologetic smile and a wink, and then he followed the pack until they were all gone.

“Uh, Yuuri, I'm gonna need an explanation here. I was under the impression that I was your only hot friend here and it looks like you already have _two_ others.” Phichit whispered as Yuuri turned himself back around, cheeks flushed. “I am offended.”

“Don’t be, I don’t really know him,” Yuuri explained. “And the old guy is not hot - "

"Well, don't be rude. I'm sure that depends on who you ask: I could see Lilia -"

" - _nor_ is he my friend - also, _ew_ \- and I'm pretty sure he just sucked my soul out of my body with his eyes?"

"Be sure to ask for that back."

"Yes, of course, I'll get right on that _,"_ Yuuri drawled, shuddering at the idea. "And the other one..."

"The hot one."

"Wait, I thought the Grim Reaper was the hot one?" Milia asked with an amused smirk.

"Yes, thank you, Mila! See, Phichit, your story just doesn't hold up." Phichit rolled his eyes and gave Yuuri a playful pinch on his arm, leveling him with a pointed look that demanded forthrightness. "Ow, okay, fine!" Yuuri sighed as Phichit released him, smirking. "Yes, ' _the hot one'_. He’s, um, he's that weird guy I told you about from my interview?”

“Wait, wait, _that’s_ the elevator guy you were talking about? Um, that's funny, you failed to mention he was a _Calvin Klein model._ ”

“Oooh, Yuuri, so you _are_ holding out on us?” Mila teased. “I've always wanted to meet a model, you know. You should introduce us!”

“Ah, I can't, like I said, I don’t really –“

“Sorry for the interruption,” Celestino exclaimed returned to the room and reseating himself. "Just some higher ups looking in on the zoo, I guess!" Yuuri braced himself for the unwelcome spotlight yet again, until -

“Anyway, now that we’re all finished with introductions, I’m going to go ahead and pass around your orientation schedules for the next two weeks. You’ll be sitting on training sessions that will teach you…”

 _Oh thank god,_ Yuuri thought to himself as he tuned out Celestino’s rambling. Whatever information he needed he would get from Phichit later. The _important_ news was that Yuuri was spared from the embarrassment of the icebreaker, all because of this eccentric mystery that was Victor – who for whatever reason actually remembered Yuuri from their brief and awkward interaction weeks earlier and who had the audacity to _gesture._

Victor was clearly an odd sort of guy, because who the fuck knocks on a glass pane in the middle of a meeting? But his eccentricities had unknowingly come to Yuuri’s rescue for a second time here in the bizarre firm, so Yuuri decided that _definitely_ owed Victor a thank-you now. _Maybe a coffee, too. Would that be weird? Maybe that would be weird. Just a thank you, then_.

___________________

Fact: “One to two years of relevant work experience required” really means “no experience necessary; we are going to assume you have developed no basic life skills whatsoever.” 

The new paralegals spent the rest of their first week attending “training sessions” on basic fundamental modern skills. They spent hours being “taught” how to operate Microsoft Word, Microsoft Excel, how to proofread, how to research, how to describe their work, how to manage their time, how to operate the fucking telephone, and how to have a conversation with their attorneys.

They were given a schedule of training sessions for the week which reminded Yuuri yet again of a class schedule. He wondered when he would stop doing that - comparing everything in his life to school. Wasn't the Real World supposed to feel different?

For the most part, all of the paralegals had identical schedules except for the rare hour where Litigation and Corporate had to separate. When that happened, Yuuri had to return to the windowless cubicle that he was assigned to share with Seung-Gil.

Seung-Gil was not a talkative person. He was arguably the most experienced person amongst the new-hires, having interned at several law firms prior to Feltsman and he was one of the only paralegals who already possessed a very clear intention to practice law in the future. To Yuuri's surprise, the rest of them were trying out this "law firm thing" as much as Yuuri was. Seung-Gil's practice group was also the busiest in the Corporate department; he'd had to skip several training sessions already because he was assigned work on a handful of deals. Though none of the other paralegals had been given an actual assignment yet, Seung-Gil still seemed to look extra disdainfully at Yuuri when he sat at his desk doing nothing as he waited until the next meeting. All of Yuuri’s weak attempts at conversation with Seung-Gil were met with silence and indifference and offers of help were met with scoffs; Yuuri found it only moderately uncomfortable.

Through a little prodding from Phichit, Yuuri had managed to become friendly with Mila and Guanghong, who sat together not far away from Yuuri’s own desk. Yuuri found himself idling in their cubicle more often than not as they waited together for their next training session to begin - he needed to give himself a break from Seung-Gil's judgemental stares every once in a while.

“What if we took a shot every time Celestino says ‘ciao’?” Mila giggled, spinning slowly round in her office chair.

“No way, we would get in so much trouble, Mila,” Guanghong mumbled as he flipped idly through his employment manual. Yuuri eyed the large binder guiltily; he was supposed to be looking through the manual, too, but he figured it would be better to neglect the manual than to try and read it and then accidentally sleep through his next training session.

“Not to mention that would be two shots at the beginning of _every meeting,”_ Yuuri said as he perched himself on the single empty desk corner in Mila and Guanghong’s cubicle. "We'd have alcohol poisoning by noon."

"That's probably a generous estimate, I don't think we'd make it til then."

"I'm a heavy weight, I'm not worried."

“Either way, this week has been boring as hell,” Mila whispered. “I need some _actual_ work. A stiff drink doesn't sound bad after all this.”

“We should try and do a happy hour,” Guanghong suggested.

“YES!” Mila exclaimed, withering slightly as Yuuri and Guanghong quickly shushed her. “Sorry,” she said at a lower volume. “I just mean, that’s a great idea, Guanghong. I’m writing in the group chat. Next Friday should be fine.”

“Yuuri, have you seen that guy again?” Guanghong asked, glancing away from his manual as their phones collectively buzzed with Mila’s text. “The one who kept tapping on the window?”

“Yeah, Yuuri, did you tap that?” Mila teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Ugh, no,” Yuuri groaned, pressing his palms to his pink cheeks as he pouted. “No tapping, of any kind. I haven’t seen him at all since then.”

“Ohhhh, does that mean you've _been looking for him?_ ”

“No!”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Mila hummed. “Oh, looks like everyone is in for happy hour!”

“Uh, guys, we should go,” Guanghong interjected, glancing at his watch. “We needed to be on the 47th floor five minutes ago.”

“Fantastic,” Yuuri grumbled as he walked back to his cubicle to retrieve his training manual. “I’ll meet you guys down there,” he called to Mila and Guanghong. Sure enough, Seung-Gil was nowhere to be found; he never did bother wait for Yuuri so they could head to trainings together. Yuuri figured it was time to call in his secret weapon: the indisputable social charm of one Phichit Chulatont. If anyone could thaw out the icy exterior of Seung-Gil, it would be Phichit, and Yuuri could hope to eventually be looped in to camaraderie by proxy. Until then, Yuuri resigned himself to bearing the cold in his cubicle while Phichit worked his magic.

Yuuri was definitely looking forward to happy hour.

___________________

 

On Monday, Yuuri received his first assignment. He got looped into helping out with a supposedly straightforward closing in his practice group and his job was to proofread and date documents and compile original closing materials. It was easy, mind-numbingly boring, and Yuuri contemplated how he was meant to spend two years doing work like this.

On Wednesday, all of the deal-related shit hit the proverbial fan and it was Yuuri's job to help clean it up. For the remainder of the week, Yuuri had to come in early, work through lunch, and stay late far past the last trickles of daylight to make up for the delayed closing. Yuuri contemplated quitting, but he knew he might have a nervous breakdown if he did. Then again, he would have a nervous breakdown if he stayed, too. Exactly one of those options involved a paycheck, so Yuuri resigned himself to yet another all-nighter alone in his dusty cubicle. At least Seung-Gil seemed to approve of Yuuri's misery, looking at Yuuri with just a tinge less disdain as he left a delirious Yuuri alone in the cube at the end of the day.

On Friday, the deal closed. Yuuri questioned his life decisions and got belligerently, outrageously, blackout drunk at happy hour.

He was assured by all participants of the paralegal group chat that the night was "legendary." Yuuri remembered exactly none of this, but he had plenty of proof: a skull-splitting hangover that left him precariously on the verge of living and dead for the duration of Saturday morning; some very embarrassing Snapchat videos and Instagram posts that no one could be convinced to take down; an actual, honest-to-god text message conversation with Seung-Gil; and a smudged phone number written on his palm which Yuuri hurriedly scrubbed off with soap the next day.

All in all, Yuuri had learned a lot during his first two weeks at Feltsman, Lambiel & Nikiforov LLP, most of which was highly insignificant. But there were certainly a few bright points: he had some pretty great coworkers; he had made some good money on overtime that week, even if he would have gladly taken the lower paycheck if it meant he could have gone home at a reasonable hour; Seung-Gil seemed to be warming up to him slowly but surely now that he'd seen Yuuri doing some semblance actual work. The job probably still sucked, but so far the positives outweighed the negatives. Two weeks in and already the next two years were seeming more and more bearable.

All in all, things were looking up.

 

Fact: what goes up must come down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I wish I had any idea at all as to what this chapter is...but, alas, I do not. 
> 
> Just gonna leave this here and...ya know...vanish into a cave or something...
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I'm so sorry~~

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing that has happened. Lol is this boring? I hope this wasn't boring. Let me know if you're interested in seeing more of this. Idk why I like the idea of these guys messing around in an office but I may be alone in this interest (probably because I also work in and mess around in an office)
> 
> Thank you for reading this far!


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